Saturday, July 20, 2013, was an historic day in the little town of New Haven, MO. The Beaver Brand Hat Co., founded in 1860 and formerly known as the Langenberg Hat Company, shut its doors last October after making hats in New Haven since 1928. Saturday was not only about liquidating the assets of the plant. It was about paying homage to a way of life that has all but disappeared from small-town America The manufacturing industries that built and fed America's heartland have virtually disappeared. Shoe factories, textile and clothing plants and hat manufacturing have closed their doors and shuttered their windows.
And so, if a person has a chance to take one last look at an intact piece of history, and perhaps even tote away a nostalgic remembrance of days gone by, it is incumbent upon that person to brave the heat and humidity, grab a number, start bidding, and buy one or two small items...or perhaps eight items. In this case, the eight items stand nearly seven feet tall and about three feet square, and are made of wood - drying racks for felt hats. Let's face it. When a factory is selling all of its equipment and inventory, you are probably going to have to buy a "lot" - and the "lots" contain a lot of items! These racks have interesting history and potential for re-use without changing or harming the original structure and simple beauty of the pieces.
Purchase number one: Eight wooden drying racks. Perhaps you are wondering how one is going to get these home. Frankly, not a question that I considered in the heat of bidding. A detail. Thankfully, Mike is really good at details. He'll roll his eyes and shake his head in exasperation at one of my "big picture" ideas, but essentially, he'll work out the practical logistics while I glow with sweat and happiness at claiming a piece of history. To me, that century-old rack is not just a rickety piece of wood, but its essence captures the lives of the people who toiled and made a living on that factory line. That rack embodies a little part of the soul of America.
Some of my fellow bidders are vying for their piece of history while others have very practical matters at hand, purchasing items useful for current businesses. It appears that on that fateful October day, the line was simply stopped and never re-started. Nearly forty thousand square feet house the component pieces, ribbons, hat bands, felt, and hats in the process of construction and box after box of hats ready to be shipped. Top hats, western hats, derby hats and Hamburgs, men's hats, women's hats, children's hats - hats for all seasons.
There is something for everyone. A young woman from Minneapolis is competing with another bidder for the wooden forms that shape the hats. She makes reproduction 16th century hats; he fashions civil-war era hats for reenactments. A young Amish woman is quietly bidding on boxes of traditional black felt Amish men's hats, while next to her, the raucous man my husband engages in conversation is looking for cowboy hats to re-stock his travelling western wear store, that follows the rodeo circuit. Two dapper young men from Memphis, TN are focusing on high-end finished products for their haberdashery. Some of those humans are almost as interesting as the "stuff."
What about those eight drying racks? Mike dangerously leaves me at the auction while he goes home to get our utility trailer. The nice lady at the food stand sells me a bottle of water on credit as I carelessly left all of my money in the truck. I'm fairly confident he'll return to pick me and the eight drying racks up. Life is grand in small-town America, making memories and collecting Road Stories.
